


Die, Die My Darling

by ayal



Category: Hockey RPF
Genre: M/M, references to sex but no actual description of it
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-08-04
Updated: 2014-08-04
Packaged: 2018-02-11 16:40:34
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 955
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2075400
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ayal/pseuds/ayal
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Sean Avery was not a well adjusted man. Everyone in the NHL knew that. No one more than Martin Brodeur.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Die, Die My Darling

**Author's Note:**

> The title is a song by The Misfits

Sean Avery was a fan of hate. Everytime some hulking fourth liner threatened to smash his nose in he felt like he had enough butterflies in his stomach to carry him away on cloud nine.

Needless to say of course he enjoyed rivalries. Especially when they played their rivals from across the Hudson. His favorite to annoy was that egostical overbloated goalie of their's. 

For once Tortorella had deemed Sean fit to play and he fully intended to seize this opportunity.

Sean will maintain there's no better feeling than skating out onto the New Jersey ice and being showered with boos. He can practically feel Brodeur's beady little eyes on him and he turns to wink. 

There is no way Brodeur can see it but his hackles still raise and Sean has the sunshine-y feeling at the base of his spine.

Torts puts Sean out onto the ice and he immediately heads for Brodeur. Its convient that the Rangers are currently in the Devil's zone but he plans on staying for a while. 

Sean scoots closer to Brodeur and hisses, "Maybe tonight I'll just slip it in your five hole. You seemed to love it the last time but then again I don't speak French."

Sean dearly wishes he could see Brodeur's stupid face when he snaps back, "What an overused expression Avery. Of course I don't expect much creavity from that empty head. And I wouldn't be the one bragging about stupid I am."

Parise whizzes back with the puck and the action flips over the other side of the ice. But Sean stays rooted next to Brodeur. 

"Crisse Avery I knew you were obsessed with me but now you're not even playing? Pathetic." As if to rub salt in the wounds Brodeur smacks Avery's calf with his paddle.

"Oh Marty I wouldn't expect you to know how a forward is supposed to play." Despite his fat arms Brodeur actually managed to hit him pretty hard. A bruise is probably already forming. Sean should be ashamed at how his dick twitches at the thought of Brodeur touching it later.

But he lost his sense of shame a long time ago. Fortunately Brodeur hasn't so Sean doesn't have to worry about him blabbing. 

"I'm pretty sure a rat in the sewers knows more about being a forward than you do. You are family after all. They probably taught you." 

Sean shoves Brodeur's paddle away from his leg with his stick, before he can add a twin bruise to Sean's thigh. 

There's a crush of players obscuring his view but Sean thinks two players are battling in the corner for the puck. Dubi manages to break free with it and hurtles down the ice. Sean slides in front of Brodeur and snickers, "How sweet you want to meet my family or something Brodeur? Not sure how the missus will feel about that."

It strikes a nerve just like Sean knew it would and Brodeur bangs his stick against Sean's ankle. He falls to the ice but all Sean can do is smirk. 

During the intermission Sean walks down a hallway where he is all too familiar with what the ceiling tiles look like. As expected Brodeur tries to jump him like the maniac he is.

"You absolute fuck." Sean was never fond of that shade of red until he saw how often it spread across Brodeur's fat cheeks.

Its a dance Sean settles into quickly and he leans against the concrete wall. "I've been told I'm good at fucking yes." 

Brodeur steps into Sean's space and glares down at him like the righteous prick he is. "I'm sure you are. You would get used to it when you're getting paid to do it."

Anger bubbles in the pit of Sean's stomach and he can't believe how absolutely giddy he is because he's so fucking excited at being angry.

"Look here you overfeed cow-"

However Brodeur cuts him off with a laugh that grates on Sean's ears. "Where'd you pick that insult from? Sex in the city?"

Brodeur's accent curls around the word sex and it makes Sean think of the hotels they've ruined together. His blood is still churning with anger so he spits out, "What can you watch tv? Must be hard I know how you struggle with English."

Now their chest protectors are pressed together and Sean can smell just how sweaty Brodeur is. It only adds to how light-headed Sean feels but Brodeur's knuckle is under his chin forcing him to look up.

"Quand tu parle je voudrais rien de plus que tu bâillonner."

French used to make him mad in high school because of the endless parade of tenses but now it just makes him mad for a different reason. Like when Brodeur is fucking babbling in it and tugging hard on Sean's hair, making tears well up in his eyes.

"This is America speak English."

Brodeur has the most annoying laugh Sean has ever heard and right now its making him want to shove his knee into Brodeur's big gut. 

"You do know you're Canadian right?"

"Thanks McGuire."

Brodeur's face gets dark and through the fuzz of adrenaline Sean can feel a jolt of arousal just at the look. But before he can do anything more about it Brodeur steps away and says he needs to go change. 

Sean blinks and sinks down to his feet not even realizing he had been standing on his tiptoes trying to look Brodeur in the eye. 

He gathers himself together enough to say, "We're staying in the Carlyle! I'm in room 314." 

They both know Brodeur will come and they both know Sean will get rid of his roommate. They've done this enough before.


End file.
